


All At Once

by Melle66



Series: Airborne [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melle66/pseuds/Melle66
Summary: He thought the scars would stop appearing on his skin after Shannon passed away, and the did... For a while.A soulmates fic.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: Airborne [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554208
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	All At Once

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of of Airborne, a series of unrelated Slibbs one-shots inspired (mostly) by The Airborne Toxic Event songs.
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who's left a comment on my fics, it helps a ton! Also, since English is not my first language, please excuse (and if you can, kindly point out) any grammar mistake I surely made. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He had gladly welcomed the scars when he was younger. The barely there traces on his skin which went mostly unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t looking closely. His first one -or the first he could remember- appeared on his knee when he was eight years old. He only noticed while taking a shower, assuming it was simply a spot of dirt from playing around, and growing annoyed when no amount of scrubbing got it clean. Frustrated, he ended up walking to his mother to show her his now red and pulsing knee. Her first reaction was to frown at the damage he’d done to his skin, but when he kept complaining about the spot she simply could not see, a warm smile appeared on her face and she kindly guided her son to her bed, where she carefully applied a cold ointment with a penetrating smell he could clearly remember more than fifty years later.

What Ann Gibbs had explained that day was even more memorable, and the idea of it never left him. Whenever a new spot appeared, he wondered how she had hurt herself this time… whoever she was. It had him on edge the next time he walked on the street, paying attention to anyone who might have a cut on her hand, a scratch on her elbow, yet another one on her knee. 

His friends didn’t seem as curious as him. If anything, they were annoyed whenever they found a new stain on their skin, unable to show them to anyone else. How clumsy can a soulmate be to give them so many spots at the same time? But Gibbs’ spots weren’t a common occurrence, and it told him a lot about his soulmate. She was careful enough to rarely get hurt, but also when taking care of her injuries, for Gibbs’ spots faded way sooner than he would have liked. 

It was torture to have such a bond with a person he didn’t even know… and he might _never_ get to know. The older he grew, the more he realized how rare it was to meet a couple who were soulmates. His parents were, that much he knew, and even if he hadn’t seen their matching scars every now and then, his father’s devotion for Ann made it clear that they hadn’t settled down together after not finding _the one._ He prayed -back when he prayed- that he would get to experience that kind of love. He would have preferred skipping the part in which she died.

Gibbs had known about Shannon for a long while. That was the magic of small towns; even if you didn’t know someone, you knew _about_ them. He didn’t realize it was her until the day the were finally introduced to each other not long before being deployed. Everyone had heard at least one person describe the feeling of touching their soulmate for the first time, the heaviness in the moment, how it could make anyone feel like they had reached the shore when they hadn’t even noticed being lost at sea. He had felt that and more when they shook hands, and he had seen the look on her face that told him she was going through the same feelings.

The spots kept on appearing even after they married, and he made a conscious effort to avoid hurting himself while working with wood when one night he noticed he could see all the spots in her hands. Shannon only laughed it off and told him not to worry, but he always did afterwards. When Kelly was born, he realized the bond wasn’t limited to light scarring if the pain the other person went through was strong enough. Her time in labor made him actually take a moment to kneel down due to the unexpected nausea that took over him. Gibbs later found out she had been in momentary pain once or twice while he was on duty.

If there was any pain in his body when she died, he couldn’t remember. The overwhelming silence inside him, the void that took place in his heart, were too much to process anything else. He didn’t remember being that empty before meeting her, but he was supposed to keep on living somehow.

His father helped somewhat. He resigned himself to the solitude for a while until years later he noticed a new spot on the sole of his foot. The stains kept coming, one after the other as cuts on his legs and bruises on his arms. It angered him that life would consider Shannon replaceable and assign him someone new. After all, wasn’t a soulmate supposed to be for life? 

Still he tried for years to find her, looking discreetly for cuts and scars on them in hopes to see they matched his. Anything to ease the heartache that still crawled into his skin and straight into his soul every night, but it was never the right person. He had loved some of them deeply and some not enough, but none of them were the woman he lost. 

Eventually, he gave up. He had been lucky enough to find Shannon even if their time together was cut too short. Why should he get to have that again?

The plan to give up on that didn’t work out for Gibbs, though. When the skin on his wrists darkened visibly, he knew something was terribly wrong. For months he had to navigate life feeling an unexpected pang on his face, seeing a bruise growing bigger on his side… the taste of blood in his mouth. It drove him crazy to know there was someone, somewhere suffering as much as his… as this woman, and being unable to help. Then he had to get used to be awoken at night by his back stinging unbearably while trying to will his thoughts into the woman’s head. _Hang in there. You are not alone._

He endured it, nevertheless, and came out victorious. It didn’t take him long to realize it was only the pain that left him, but the bond was still there and the relief that washed all over him wasn’t replaced by his usual shame concerning Shannon. 

A part of him knew the moment she waltzed into his house, without even touching her, and it blew his mind. Never would he have willingly pictured himself with a woman who was so… _different_. At least that was what he kept telling himself to avoid getting close to her. She was spontaneous while he prided himself on being a careful planner -those rules didn’t write themselves after all-, she shared and openly showed she cared, while he was cautious and distant. But not even Gibbs was stubborn enough to deny they worked together like clockwork, or that Jack constantly made him go back to places in his heart and mind he had locked up after Shannon and Kelly.

When she showed him her scars, which would never leave her even if they had faded from his back, and it was all he could do to stop himself from pulling her close and kissing them to make her see how desperately he had tried to comfort her. He didn’t show her his. Didn’t need to when he was certain she knew exactly how it looked.

They danced around each other for years, both too wary to make a move and secretly scared they’d lose the other, or that they would be the one to be lost. It usually led up to moments like this night, when after a good game of poker they found themselves moving quietly around the kitchen, doing the dishes or putting them away. Out of comfort, they rarely said a word, but exchanged numerous glances, smiles.

Jack brushed past him on her way into the kitchen to hand him a couple more glasses to wash, then moved to start the coffee pot. She was just turning around to lean against the counter while glancing at Gibbs when a glass crashed against the sink and the man threw a hand to the air with a grunt. Jack immediately approached him, holding his injured hand between hers to inspect it. Then she simply put it under running water and reached for a clean towel to wrap it with. 

“That’s a lot of blood from such a light cut,” she complained in a whisper, her lips pursing in concentration soon after speaking. Gibbs let out a chuckle and shook his head, gently pulling his hand away from hers and throwing the towel into the sink before stopping the water. 

“Won’t kill me,” he said simply, looking down at her in his nonchalant way, but Jack lifted her hand to show him the trace of lighter skin that resembled his cut.

“Doesn’t look pretty, though.”

Gibbs held his breath for a second, then realized his mouth was half-open and quickly closed it, clearing his throat. He had no doubt she knew as well as he did what they were to each other, but this was the first time either of them acknowledged it. They’d had enough opportunities, and silently agreed to not take a single one. Instead, they allowed their friendship to grow until letting the chances pass by was physically painful. He still struggled with the idea of having two soulmates and yet, having her in front of him, obviously aware of his internal battle felt just _right._ Knowing he was caught by surprise, Jack laughed deeply and gave him a light shrug.

“Relax, I’m only making a move…” she paused, taking a step forward so that their bodies brushed, “Seeing if you’ll make yours…”

“What if I never make a move?” he asked, even though his hand had reached for her waist almost out of instinct.

Jack let out a long sigh, relaxing as her hands grabbed the hem of his shirt into fists. She turned her face and brushed her nose against his chest, making sure to breath against it.

“That’s your call, cowboy. It doesn’t make you any less mine.”

The way his hands dug on her hips when he pressed her into the counter was far too urgent for his own liking, but he didn’t care for once. She was right, and just as nothing would make him any less hers, giving in wouldn’t make him any less himself.

**Author's Note:**

> [ See me on Tumblr!](http://unglobitoazul.tumblr.com)


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